Forks in the Road
by VegaWriters
Summary: She never had time to take it easy. The investigation continued, Kazakhstan and China were facing off, and the first of many memos that demanded her signature was waiting. So, she started, signing her name over and over again until the very look seemed
1. The Fog

Forks in the Road 

Shauna Kayleen Brock

A/N: This series follows the Dark History sequences, so it's advisable that you read that series before diving into this one. The timeline for this series is 7th season and is nothing but spoilers. It starts post Mr. Frost and moves forward.

_Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. In fact, they should probably belong to work since that's when I get a lot of writing done. But I don't make any money off of them, that goes to the people over at Warner Brothers. At least I get to play for a while._

_Pairing: CJ/Toby; CJ/Danny _

_Rating: All of my stories are rated Adult._

_**Chapter One: The Fog**_

If she was able to collapse, she would. But she couldn't and running a country that was falling to pieces at light speed was more than a little difficult. So, CJ just settled at her desk with the Diet Coke that Margaret knew she needed and tried to shake the nagging voice of her doctor, reminding her to take it easy for a while. She never had time to take it easy. The investigation continued, Kazakhstan and China were facing off, and the first of many memos that demanded her signature was waiting. So, she started, signing her name over and over again until the very look seemed foreign.

Five hours of questions about her and Toby's relationship, all stemming back to the notion that maybe he'd let something slip during sex. Or maybe she had. She knew full well that Toby's lawyer was gunning to nail more than one person, and so the committee was looking to do so as well. So it had been five hours of embarrassing admissions about the affair with Toby, their history, her medical history, all of it. Five hours of humiliation that would eventually be released to the general public. Maybe by then she could be living on a small island far, far, far away from here.

Her stomach lurched and she had to catch herself to keep from loosing what little of her lunch she'd been able to keep down. The nausea had been there all day, well, had really been there for weeks, ever since the night Toby had confessed. At one time, it had been an almost happy reminder of the child she carried; now it was a constant reminder that her body was about to give way. 'Just a few more months', she pleaded with herself. 'Just a few more months and then I promise you can collapse.'

"When did you sleep last?"

She blinked at the voice and looked up to see Abbey Bartlet standing in the doorway to her office. CJ rose quickly to her feet, and instantly regretted it. "Dr. Bartlet. This is a surprise."

Abbey waved her back to her chair as she came to sit opposite her. "I wanted to check on you."

"I'm doing all right." Somehow, CJ managed a smile, but even she knew that it didn't touch her eyes.

"No, you aren't. None of us are." Abbey gave her a gentle smile. "So, when did you sleep last?"

"I don't remember."

"Then it's been too long. You need to go home by ten tonight. Get some real sleep and don't be back here until six tomorrow morning."

"That would be fine if I hadn't spent five hours being grilled." Sighing, she closed her eyes, willing the tears to stay at bay. One escaped down her cheek, and threatened to break the whole dam that was holding back her emotions. She couldn't afford to loose control.

"CJ..."

She just shook her head. "I don't know … I just … I feel somehow like I'm just an accessory to Toby's crime. God, I need ... I need to just be able to do my job. And I can't anymore. Between the hearings and the campaign and trying to get us through to January ... I can't do it. I just can't."

"CJ, what else is wrong?" Abbey knew a broken heart when she saw one, but she wasn't going to push. CJ would only retreat further away.

"I'm just tired is all." She tried to give her old friend a smile. "I'm sorry you guys..."

Abbey laughed. "Right now, between Ellie's impending motherhood, the hearings, the campaign and my husband's continued attitude, it feels almost like it's life as normal." When CJ snorted at that, Abbey just laughed. "You're doing better than you think you are."

CJ would have laughed, but throwing up seemed like a much better option at the moment. "And I thought that a new hair color would make it all better."

Again, Abbey just laughed and the sound eased the tension in the room. "I can't give you the assurances that you need, but just keep doing what you're doing CJ. You've made your legacy. You were the one to uncover the leak; you were the first female Chief of Staff and the first female Press Secretary. You've been more on the inside than most Press Secretaries ever were, and as Chief of Staff you've still kept up that open relationship with the press. When that relationship closes, it leads to distrust in the public."

"The public --"

"Still loves this White House. And your legacy continues on, CJ. You've presided over summits and held down the fort while the President has suffered through crippling MS attacks. You've managed to keep the peace between the Vice President's office and the Oval Office - a peace that my husband could truly care less about. And you've done it all while still showing women that they can be feminine. You've earned the legacy that you don't even realize you have yet. It's not easy, but the best wins never are."

CJ shrugged.

"Have you eaten yet?"

Her stomach lurched at the thought of food. "I'm not really hungry, Abbey."

"And this is where I ask if you remember the last time you ingested anything besides coffee and soda." She didn't wait for CJ to answer but moved to the door and instructed Margaret to send up two salads and some saltine crackers for CJ. After ordering, she looked at her friend and tilted her head again. "CJ, are you feeling all right, physically?"

"What?"

Abbey looked at her, a suspicion rising. "CJ, honey, are you pregnant?"

"I..." tears threatened again and CJ just shook her head. "I... "

Abbey moved over and knelt down, "Hey, it's just me in here."

CJ shrugged. "I was," she said softly. "I miscarried about a week ago."

Abbey started to ask whom the father was but stopped herself, suddenly realizing why CJ was so emotional. "Oh, CJ, I'm sorry..."

"Abbey..." she sighed and put her face into her hands.

The First Lady of the United States wanted to comfort her friend, but she also knew full well that in a moment like this, CJ was beyond comfort. If and when news of this got out, CJ's entire career would be bottled up into this one memory - that the Chief of Staff had been sleeping around and worst of all, with the felonious Communications Director. That on top of the book that had been released earlier this year, and CJ's legacy was going to be something far different than she deserved. "First things first, CJ. Try to eat something, go home, and try to get some sleep tonight. Does Toby know...?"

"That I was pregnant? Yes. Abbey, I got pregnant back in July. I told him right away because with my medical history, carrying a baby to full term through a difficult time like this," it felt good to finally talk to someone, "it was an impossibility. But we didn't have the heart to... I didn't want to risk a chance that I could have had the baby, you know. So we were just waiting for the inevitable." She took a deep breath, controlling her tears. "But he doesn't know I lost the baby. I keep wanting to find a way to tell him, but ... I just can't." She rambled on, forgetting that Abbey was there, "I wanted to try, I wanted so much to try and see if we could do it. Even after he confessed … I made the appointment but I couldn't go through with it. But … it's always the same with us."

_"Oh God..." she vomited her breakfast back into the toilet - for the fifth time that morning. She couldn't even get off the floor of the bathroom - and her pager had already gone off three times in twenty minutes. After a sixth round, which constituted mostly of her internal organs, CJ slowly climbed to her feet, clinging to the counters in an effort to stay upright. Her secret service detail wasn't too far, and could be in here in a second. She needed to call a doctor - she couldn't tell where the stabbing pains in her gut were coming from, but she did know it wasn't right, and that the feelings were eerily familiar. "Jack!" She managed to get to her bedroom door and hollered out to where she knew they'd be listening. In less than two seconds, the head of her detail had burst through the front door._

_"Ms. Cregg?" He was at her side in a second, seeing that she needed support to even stay upright. "Ms. Cregg are you all right?" It was a dumb question, but it was also protocol._

_"Not really." She moaned and held onto him more than she wanted to. "Change of plans for the day. I'm going to get dressed and our first stop will be my doctor's office."_

_The burly agent nodded. "Can I help with anything?"_

_"While I get dressed, please get Cliff Calley on the phone for me. And my assistant." Her pager beeped again and she reached for it, crying out when she stretched at all. Jack caught her as her knees buckled and gently helped her back to the bed. CJ shrugged off his second question and checked her pager. Will. "Get Cliff for me, please." She whispered. Her stomach heaved again and she couldn't control the convulsion of dry heaves that brought up only tears. Something was really wrong. Shaking, she dialed her cell phone, "Will..." she murmured when he picked up, "what is it?"_

_"Something is breaking in the Middle East." As usual, her communications director was jumpy, but he also knew when to alert her to something big. _

_"What? I don't have time for..." she moaned and coughed._

_"CJ, are you okay?"_

_"Will..." she managed to keep from screaming when another pain shot through her lower abdomen. Oh God, no, not again. Please God, not again. "Will, whatever it is, call Cliff. He'll be there in a few minutes and can manage it until I get there. I'm going to be a couple of hours late. So, just update me at Senior Staff and we can move from there, okay?"_

_"Yeah. CJ, really, are you okay?"_

_"Don't worry about it." She winced and hung up before he could go any further. Jack was in her face with her mainline and Margaret on the other end of it. She could hear the baby crying through the line and was sure the ringing phone had woken him up. "Margaret, I need you to cancel my morning. Unless I call you, I'll be in after lunch."_

_"What's wrong?" Margaret panicked. CJ was worse than Leo when it came to holding appointments - and for her to cancel probably constituted an emergency along the lines of death. _

_"Don't worry about it. Anything that can't wait pass onto Cliff."_

_When she got Margaret on the phone, the assistant automatically raced through her boss' morning schedule. "It's nothing pressing." There was a national security briefing with the President, but that was later in the day. CJ would be in by then. Hopefully._

_"I'll see you after lunch. Tell the President." Jack presented her with a different phone, this time with her deputy chief of staff, and she mumbled out a few instructions before telling him she'd see him after lunch. Somehow she managed to hand the phone back to Jack before her body tried to, again, rid her of her internal organs. She had to get dressed. "Call..." she waved to her personal cell phone. "Dr. Maris ... it's her personal number ... tell her it's an emergency." Jack nodded and left the room as she asked, so that she could get dressed. As soon as CJ had managed to throw on a pair of dark pants and a loose blouse, he had her down in the car and was racing across town to his protectee's doctor. _

"You guys have gone through this before?" Abbey knew they had a history.

Her words shook CJ back to reality and she blinked, "Yeah. I uh ... we were living together, a lifetime ago, and I went to take a job in LA and found out I was pregnant right after we moved. I lost the baby before he ever knew." She took another sip of her diet coke before Abbey took it away from her.

"You need water, and to go home."

"I have too much work to do." She gave the doctor a thankful smile, but gestured to the pile of paperwork.

"No, take a few minutes for dinner with me. The world will still be falling apart in an hour." CJ almost smiled, and it was an improvement in Abbey's eyes. No one had known. There had been that Friday when CJ had missed the morning, claiming a flu bug, but no one had ever suspected. Abbey's heart broke as she looked at the other woman - CJ had gone through so much in such a short period of time, she had been the one juggling everything for the past two years, and yet, and no one had been there to catch her as she fell.

His days were now spent in contemplation, or in testimony, his nights in solitary. He kept waiting for CJ to claim executive privilege and come in here to yell at him, but he knew she was going to stay far away from him, and keep their child far away from him. He wasn't responsible for the leak, but that had been his folder, it had initially been his idea, and now he had the pay the consequences for someone else's actions. But unless someone else came forward, he was the one responsible. He didn't know what else to do, and now he had to live with that fact and he wasn't sure yet even what that was. So he sat, and he thought, and he tried to forget the hate in CJ's eyes the night he'd confessed.

The hardest part had been that walk to the Oval. He'd wanted to touch her, to say anything, to beg forgiveness, but she had kept her distance and said nothing to him. Afterward, as the Secret Service had escorted him out, he'd searched for her, but she had disappeared back into the bowels of the building. They hadn't seen each other since. He wanted to know how she was, how the baby was, and he wanted to apologize, but he couldn't. And he worried that CJ would never forgive him for this. He'd known she had been thinking of leaking the story, but she'd held her credibility in check. He'd been the one, in her eyes, to cross the line.

He wondered if she cried over this.

He wondered if she knew that he wasn't responsible.

The few times he'd watched the news recently, the press had been showing her walking in and out of buildings, and she looked tired and withdrawn, and he knew why. And the press had noticed. When they weren't pontificating about the hurricanes, the campaign, the problems in China and Kazakhstan, or about his breech of national security, they were speculating as to why CJ Cregg looked so tired and drawn lately. The conservatives said it was because she was guilty of something. The liberals blamed the conservatives for pushing so hard for this investigation to go forward. He blamed the press. Even from his vantage point of his couch, he could tell that she'd lost even more weight and her diet probably consisted of a few leaves of lettuce, coffee, and her ever-present diet cokes. Not that he was looking any better, but he wasn't pregnant. God, was she still pregnant? Shouldn't she be showing something by now? Had she gotten rid of it? Images of the twins swam in his vision and he paled, thinking that CJ had actually done it … but had she been able to?

Despite his need to talk to her, to find a way through this, he had other things to focus on, he had to make sure that he didn't fall into the web of words both sides of the lawyers were spinning in an attempt to catch anyone else who was involved in their idea of a conspiracy. But they forgot he was not only a wordsmith, but also a lawyer, and he wasn't going to let them trap him. Even if he hadn't been the leak, he had to be the scapegoat. And there was no way they were going to paint CJ or Leo with any kind of tainted brush.

Here in the darkness of his home, he could admit to feelings like hurt and guilt and anger. Here he could look at pictures of his kids and both wonder what about the consequences of what he'd done - or almost done - and to also wonder if he'd ever really been able to go through with it. Why had he been willing to do it? That one was an easy one, he'd planned it for his kids, born and unborn, for David, and for CJ. The job of Chief of Staff had swallowed her whole, and she was good at it, but that didn't mean it hadn't changed her. At times, he missed the girl who used to come over to his place and get drunk with him over scrabble and scattergories. She'd been his then, and only his, and they could talk about everything and nothing was ever kept secret. Soon, they had come to speak only over rushed lunches or in dark rooms in rumpled beds. And now, they didn't utter a word to each other.

It hurt to see her so lost inside this world of politics, a world she'd run from after John Hoynes. Triton-Day had been there to save her from herself, and he'd dragged her back, kicking and screaming. But this was where she belonged. He'd never been cut out for a world where there were compromises on moral absolutes. She could be pro-life and yet pro-choice. She could tell women that they shouldn't be prostitutes but it was okay to have abortions. She could be for racial equality and against affirmative action. She could be for free speech and still rally her support around the CIA. But he lived in that world of moral black and white, where a person couldn't stand for one thing but advocate another. He lived in a world … he lived in a world that he had chosen. He hadn't been the leak; he'd let himself wander into the gray area. He should have listened to his mother and been a teacher. As it was, he was following the same career path as his father – women's raincoats couldn't be too hard to make. The old cliché was true - he hadn't fallen too far from the tree.

He wanted to call her, to apologize, to tell her his reasons why, and to tell her that he hadn't done it. But his reasons for planning to didn't quite make sense, even to himself, so how would they make sense to her? He dreamed that she knew. She knew that he was covering for someone and that was why she was so angry with him. Toby could only pray that he had her forgiveness. The look in her eyes that night, the last time he'd been able to communicate with her, it seemed that maybe, somewhere, under the hurt she had indeed forgiven him. But it would take time to brush that away. So he could only wait, and pray.

She padded around her empty apartment, listening to the soft strains of Tori Amos' "Silent All These Years", her hand resting on her empty abdomen. One AM and she couldn't sleep, so she walked and sipped chamomile tea. Right now, she should have been upgrading sizes on her suits and pj's, thinking about baby names and colors for the nursery, but instead she stood at her window, staring at the dark street below, tears streaming down her face.

_"You're incredibly lucky, Claudia Jean." Susan Maris smiled gently down at her patient. _

_"How so?" CJ lay on the table, barely conscious, looking up at the flowing IV tube of saline. _

_"Because you're still alive. Another couple of hours and you'd have been too weak from vomiting to handle everything else your body was going through." The doctor gave her another sympathetic smile and brushed CJ's hair from her face. "But even though you're okay, we weren't able to save the baby." CJ whimpered softly, she'd known. "Is that what your appointment with me later today was?"_

_"Yeah." She whispered._

_"CJ, I know how hard this is, especially at this point, but it also happens. The first few months are when everything that's going to go wrong, goes wrong. And, given your age and the stress you are under, I'm amazed you lasted this long." Susan sighed. She'd known CJ since she'd moved to Washington and over the years had come to know secrets that only an OBGYN could be privy to. She knew about the rape, the miscarriage, CJ's private desires for children, and yet how happy she was with her life. But she'd never expected to be having this conversation with her. _

_"Yeah ... I know." She choked on the words and started to sit up. "I ... I need to get to work." She appreciated Susan's sympathy, but right now she couldn't stay here. She needed to get back to her life._

_"CJ, you really need to go home and rest. We had to do a D&C, to flush everything out, and you're going to be weak and wobbly for the rest of the afternoon."_

_"You ... how long have I been here?"_

_"It's almost noon, CJ." Susan smiled gently. "And you really should be back home."_

_"I can't, Susan." Again she tried to sit up. Pain washed through her body, but she bit down on it. If she let this interfere with work, she'd never catch up. She looked at her doctor, who just sighed softly._

_Susan knew better than to argue with CJ. And, technically, she could return to work. But CJ had also spent the morning vomiting and any kind of abortive procedure was difficult on a woman's body. "All right, but you're dehydrated. Let the saline finish before you get dressed again."_

_"Thanks, Susan." _

Nearby, on the end table, was the first edition copy of To the Lighthouse Toby had found for her at that rare bookstore the President was so fond of. Since his confession, she'd spent so many hours arguing with him in her mind. Since her miscarriage, all she wanted was his arms around her. With shaking fingers, she picked up the book and opened it, looking at the note he'd scribbled inside.

_Jeanie,_

_You take the words from my pen and the breath from my heart. Happy holidays from my soul. I love you, I always will. It doesn't matter if we're lovers or soul mates, I love you. We're destined to be together, forever being the lighthouse that guides the other through the fog. Even though I know your heart lies elsewhere, I will always be with you. Find your own happiness, Jeanie. Find your own happiness. _

_Toby_

Tears slipped down her cheeks, "God ... " she whispered aloud, to his familiar handwriting, "Why didn't you come to me? Why didn't you tell me right off the bat, 'CJ, I did something really stupid and it's going to cause a lot of problems for everyone. So, let me tell you what I did so that we can protect the office of the President. I did something and I'm going to need to resign and we need swallow this now.' Why, Toby, why the HELL didn't you tell me?" It took her a minute to realize that she was shouting at the book. Chuckling at herself, she dropped it back onto the table and rubbed her eyes. "You've gone round the bend, Claudia Jean." She was using the investigation as an excuse. She could sneak over and see him if she wanted, but she couldn't right now. She just couldn't. Not yet. Someday, but not yet. So, now, she'd let Josh do the visiting and hear about Toby from him. If she saw Toby now, she'd loose it.

"What is the nature of your relationship with White House Chief of Staff, CJ Cregg?"

"We're old friends."

"Would you care to expand on that?" Dresden smirked a bit. He knew exactly what the relationship had been.

"CJ and I have known each other since 1984. Over the course of those twenty-one years, we have been, at times, involved romantically."

"Were you involved romantically at the time you leaked the news of the military space shuttle to Greg Brock?"

"Yes."

"Why did you choose Greg Brock?" This was at least the ninth time that exact question had been asked.

"Mr. Brock is an old friend of Ms. Cregg's and is often in her office on both personal and professional business. It didn't seem strange for me to run into him there."

"What is White House policy on romantic relationships between staff?"

"It is highly discouraged but not forbidden."

"Were at any time you and Ms. Cregg open about your relationship?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because romantic relationships are highly discouraged. We did not want any appearance of impropriety and it would have made life even more difficult for her."

"Why is that?"

"It's not easy being a woman in Washington. Especially one in her position of power."

"Did the two of you engage in sexual relations?"

"Yes."

"Where did those take place?"

"At one of our homes."

"Never in the White House?"

"No."

"At any time when you were in the company of Ms. Cregg, did discussion turn to matters of national security?"

"Not when away from her office in the White House."

"You never spoke of the military shuttle or any other classified information when away from her office?"

Toby sighed. As with the first fifteen times Dresden has asked the question, he still didn't know how on Earth could he answer it. He could be honest and say that their turn-on talk was always work and politics related, but that they never talked about issues that could possibly be overheard by anyone else. At home they bitched about Republican policies ... until after the leak. "After the leak occurred, there was occasional discussion regarding the effects of it on the Communications Department. But we never discussed who it could have been or why it occurred."

"Where did these conversations take place?"

"In her home." _In her bed, between her sheets. Yeah, asshole, get that image of CJ out of your mind right now. I am not here to answer questions that will lead to your fantasies. Yeah, I'd turn her on with telling her about who Kate and I were investigating while I was sucking on her breasts and thrusting in and out of her. Asshole._

"What was the nature of the conversations?"

"Honestly, mostly one of us complaining about the case. We knew to keep talk about it down because any talk would lead to more inquiry later and both of us were compromised as it was."

"Did, at any time, you tell her you were thinking of leaking the information?"

_Did I, at any time while making her moan and scream tell her that I had told Greg Brock about all of it and that I'd keep her name out of it if she gave me the best blow jobs of my life? Asshole. _"No."

"So," the Senator was openly smirking. "While engaging in a romantic relationship with a long time friend and lover, you were able to lie about your connection to the shuttle leak."

The first loophole in Toby's story, and he knew it. But CJ was innocent in this. At least that much was true. "I never lied."

"Ms. Cregg never asked you if you were the leak?"

"No."

"Did you ask her?"

"Those meetings were done by the FBI and Kate Harper, I recused myself from them."

"And the FBI and Kate Harper were convinced it was Ms. Cregg."

"Yes."

"Why?"

What was his usual answer to that question? "You'll have to ask them that."

"Did you, at any time, encourage Ms. Cregg to obtain private counsel?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't want her to be painted unfairly and I felt that private counsel would help in that." _Because the last time the White House was the subject of a criminal investigation, she was the one they were firing at and I couldn't let her go into this without someone backing her up. I knew that she'd already consulted with her lawyer because she'd told me in one of those meetings between the sheets. It was her lawyer who told her to not retain him officially unless she'd done anything wrong. _He sighed and looked back at the chairman of the committee. He was telling the truth, and there was nothing, nothing that they could do to change that.

"CJ?"

She looked up at the sound of Leo's voice as he entered her apartment. What time was it? He was already here?

"Leo?" Visibly brightening, she grinned and made her way to the front door to close it behind him.

"Hey, Kiddo."

"God, Leo." CJ hugged him, tightly, "You look great."

"For a sixty year old guy who is on the campaign trail and hasn't slept in weeks."

She closed the door behind him and waved him to the couch. "Seriously, you do look fabulous. How are Mallory and the baby?"

"That baby looks like his mother, thank God." He laughed and motioned for her to sit next to him. "Take a few minutes, Ceej. You look..." he sighed and shook his head, "absolutely awful, if you don't mind me saying it."

"I do, but you're right." She handed him a water bottle from the fridge and then collapsed into the couch.

"If it makes you feel any better, that whole Lame Duck process will be a lot easier as you transition out."

"Not really. There's still some stuff that we want to push through ... and if you guys don't win, our hands will be completely tied."

"Yeah. Well, we're working on that win for ya."

"Thanks." She laughed softly.

"Don't you have a deputy to take some of this knucklehead stuff off your desk so that you can get some sleep?"

"Yeah, but knucklehead stuff abhors a vacuum, apparently. Anyway, so much of my time is taken with testifying, and now with the world on the brink of war ... tell me, if I wanted to kill a certain member of the Cabinet and make it look like an accident, who would I need to talk to at the secret service?"

Leo cracked up. "We always have Ron take care of that."

"Good to know." She sighed softly and looked down at her hands.

"How are you holding up?"

"Not well."

"Have you talked to Toby since..." He, of all the senior staff, knew that Toby and CJ had started something up again. He had a feeling that not even Margaret knew of the real relationship between the now-former communications director and the Chief of Staff. He knew just how good they were at being secretive - no one had even known during the first campaign that they were having an affair, how on earth could anyone know now? Especially now. He also suspected something else, but he didn't want to say it out loud. Mostly because if he did, and it was true, he would personally kill Toby. CJ was a daughter to him.

"No. I just ... I can't."

"What's happened?" He still looked at her gently. If there was anything he'd learned about CJ over the past year and a half, it was that her strength came from her heart. Right now, her heart was completely shattered.

"Leo..." she sniffed softly. "I was pregnant."

He felt the blood drain from his body. "God ... CJ..." Leo reached out and took her hand. "I'm sorry." His suspicions confirmed, Leo instantly started plotting for ways to have Toby taken care of, but then the miserable smile she gave him broke his heart.

"This wouldn't be the first time for me and Toby ... it's in my medical records if you ever looked at them. I had a miscarriage about 20 years ago ... Toby's baby. He didn't know I was pregnant until after it happened..." she chuckled listlessly and stared at the ceiling, "History repeats itself I guess."

"How far along were you?"

"About fifteen weeks, which is late to miscarry like that." She closed her eyes, "I'm forty-five years old and have been on birth control for twenty years, that I got pregnant at all was a miracle. I passed out, my doctor did a D & C, and I was back at work by noon."

_Margaret handed her the President's updated schedule as CJ walked into the office. Somehow she'd managed to pull herself together; this wasn't anything that a little bit of makeup and a few painkillers couldn't handle. "Get me Will and Cliff as soon as humanly possible so that we can figure out what they managed to screw up this morning. Is the President in the Oval?"_

_"He's finishing up with the Chairman, actually."_

_"Fuck." She sighed, "Did you get Cliff in on that?" She sank, slowly, into her chair. The room was spinning and the pain medication was making her a bit loopy, but she needed to be here. _

_Margaret blinked at the expletive, but just nodded. "Yes, he said he'll brief at Staff."_

_"Okay. Also, get Ed and Larry in on this meeting too. I want to see where legislative affairs is on things. Hold my calls until 4, and I'm going home by eight tonight."_

_"Are you feeling okay?" Margaret didn't believe for a minute that CJ was actually in working condition._

_No, no I'm not. This morning my body decided that a miscarriage was what was on order for breakfast. "I'm just dealing with a stomach thing is all, Margaret. I'm probably ground zero for a stomach bug or something around here. Can you get me some crackers and ginger ale?"_

_"Of course." She handed over the messages and hurried out to make the necessary calls and to find those crackers. CJ really didn't look okay, but she'd learned by now to not say anything. _

_She waited a couple of minutes before getting up and pulling a jacket out of her closet. Shrugging into it carefully, she grabbed her files and slipped into the Oval in hope of catching the tail end of the meeting._

_"CJ! Nice of you to join us today." The President regarded her carefully. He was still hurting from the leak, and still wondered how on Earth CJ couldn't have known it was Toby, but Leo had told him to trust her, and Abbey had come down on him pretty hard, so he was going to do his best. Anyway, today, his Chief of Staff looked like she could be blown over with a feather. _

_"My apologies, Sir. It was an eventful morning."_

_"No problem, Cliff's been finding ways to piss us all off with his own opinions on things." He smiled at the deputy as CJ sat down. _

_"I'll get the notes from him later, Sir. Please continue, I'll catch up." She smiled at the Chairman as signal for him to continue talking. The part of her that was now able to absorb this information by rote paid attention while the rest of her mind and body wandered thanks to the painkillers. She was even able to stand and smile at the Chairman as he left. "Cliff, can you wait in my office?"_

_"Sure, CJ." _

_She lingered behind, waiting for the room to clear. "I apologize again, Sir, about this morning."_

_"No offense, CJ, but you look like hell ... really ... if you're sick you shouldn't be here." Yes, he was mad, but he also cared, deeply for this woman. Of all his staff, CJ was the one who stuck by him, fiercely loyal. And when she disagreed with him she made it known and dared him to think in other directions. She was the one who, somehow, kept him from being completely corrupted by all this nonsense. And now, looking carefully at her, he realized just how sick she looked. Something was wrong. "Go home."_

_"I've got a hall pass from my doctor, Sir. It's just a stomach thing." Part of her wanted to tell him. She knew how he looked at her like a daughter, and now that her own father was so far gone, right now she needed someone to cry to. But that someone was going to be a bottle of chardonnay tonight and maybe she'd call Leo. Maybe. But right now, if she said anything else, she'd start crying and she wouldn't stop and that wasn't allowed in the Oval. So she sucked it up and somehow found the ability to check in with him on the morning meetings she'd missed. It hurt to stand, but she was going to do it. _

_"CJ..." Jed stopped her as she turned to go. He took a few steps forward and put his hand on her arm. "CJ, really, are you okay? What happened this morning?"_

_"Nothing, Sir. Just a round of food poisoning or something. But I'm all right." She gave him a tired smile. "I should get back in there and yell at my staff some."_

_Jed chuckled and nodded, and watched her leave. Something was wrong with her, and he admired her for not making a big deal out of it here, but something was seriously wrong. _

"Is that good for the human body?" Leo tried to lighten her mood.

"I'm sure it isn't." The pressure behind her head was threatening to explode and her stomach was killing her. When had been the last time she'd eaten and managed to keep it down?

"When was the last time you saw Ms. Cregg?"

"The night I confessed." Toby shifted, uncomfortable. The committee was digging. They had something, something new; it was the only reason he'd be here on a Sunday by this point. He looked over at his lawyer and then back at the men on the other side of the table.

"Before your confession, what was the nature of the conversation?"

"It was the end of a long two days. CJ offered a drink."

"What was said?" The chairman pushed.

Toby sighed. He couldn't remember how many times he'd repeated the same stories over and over. The words now were rehearsed, and he knew the committee was looking for that. But it was their own fault for asking the same questions. And if they thought he was giving up any information about CJ's worries regarding Leo, they were wrong. As it was, they were interrogating the wrong guy. "She offered the drink, she made a comment about the committee dragging her staff away from their jobs to testify."

"You joked?"

"Not in a funny way." Toby leaned back and smirked.

"Did you discuss your relationship?"

"No." Now he knew they were digging. Especially when the chairman pulled out a folder and flipped through it.

"What was the nature of your conversation?"

"As I have said, we talked briefly about the time the appearances were taking, commented on how tired CJ was, and decided to have a drink."

"You decided to have a drink?" He smirked. "Despite the condition of her health?"

Toby paled. They had CJ's medical records. They knew. God, they knew. "We never made it to the drink."

"I have it here, that Ms. Cregg was pregnant at the time you confessed. Did the two of you decide that you would confess rather than have her go to jail while pregnant?"

Red spots floated in front of his eyes. "No."

"You didn't decide that in order to avoid problems, you would take the blame for CJ's actions?"

"No!" He growled. They were digging, and digging for a reason.

"CJ Cregg did not set you up to take the blame in this and then plan to get an abortion? Thereby giving herself freedom while you are --"

"No!" His hands gripped the chair. "No!" An abortion? She'd had an abortion? But she'd been so far along and they'd talked about it and she wanted to hold on as long as she could to this pregnancy. No, she had to have miscarried. God, she'd been alone and he'd ... if he hadn't confessed ... but if he hadn't, they would have indicted her and she wasn't the leak. "No. I confessed. It was me."

_It only took her clicking the lock for the tears to flow freely. She collapsed right there at the door, sobbing, clutching her stomach painfully. The sobs became wails as the months of anger and pain escaped her body and into the open. There wasn't china to break this time, and she didn't have the strength to throw it. Slumped in a pile on the floor, her briefcase on one side, her coat on the other, she let it out until her head hurt and her nose was so stuffed that she could taste the mucus running down her throat. It hit her mostly empty stomach and she lurched, puking up the crackers she'd had for dinner. _

_"Here," Jack hadn't been far behind his charge, and he'd known that she would need someone to help her tonight. While the other members of the detail waited it out in their small room off of her apartment, he'd come in here, knowing that if left to her own she'd fall asleep right there on the floor. He coaxed her into swallowing a few sips of salt water and then lifted her from her place on the floor and carried her to bed._

"Are you going to tell him?" Leo handed over a plate with half a sandwich and an apple along with a warm mug of tea and settled next to her. It had taken some convincing, but she'd agreed to eat. Or try to.

"Tell him what?" She could cry in front of her mentor, and so she had. Today was her one day to let herself heal; tomorrow started a new week of worries and catastrophes.

"He'd want to know."

"He forfeited a lot of rights when he leaked that information, including the rights to his child. I mean, he knew I was pregnant, but I'm going to let it fester with him. He'll figure it out eventually." She looked at him, daring him to say anything that she'd have to testify to in court. She knew that Toby's lawyer wasn't too far off, and she didn't want to know why.

"He's still the father, CJ." Leo gave her a gentle smile. "And even though you're pissed..."

"Yeah." Leaning back into her couch, she found herself staring across the room at a picture of her, Toby, Anisah, and Abdul. They'd all been so young and carefree once. "I just ... I can't really talk to him right now."

Leo took her hand. She seemed smaller now, almost more human. In his years working with her, he'd fantasized about her, fallen in and out of love with her, and had learned that of all his staff, she was the most capable of taking the party somewhere. "Toby was right to push me to make you press secretary."

"Who were you initially thinking? Mandy?"

"Yeah." He snorted. "But we couldn't have done any better than you. If we win, you want a job on my staff? I'll need a Chief of Staff and --"

"Leo, don't. Not right now." She sighed softly. "I just ... I need to get away from that building for a while. Anyway, why would I want to be demoted?" She tried to laugh but it all just hurt. Right now it was more emotional hurt than physical hurt, but her body was still sore from trying to expunge its internal organs.

"More vacation time, for one." He grinned at her. "Think about it, okay?"

"And if you loose?"

"Then I'll take you to Bermuda for a month. All expenses paid. The only rule is you need to find a bikini to walk around in and let an old man ogle you for a while."

For a minute she didn't know whether to laugh or roll her eyes, but suddenly the giggles spilled out of her and she dissolved into laughter. The look on Leo's face was priceless. "I've got a teal string one that you'll love." For a brief, brief second she wondered what it would be like to tease Leo like that, and she wondered if she could go through with it. She wondered if she would do more than just tease him. But the feelings passed just as quickly as they came. This was Leo.

"Oh, don't get me started, Claudia Jean." He laughed and reached over to pick up his own coffee cup. "Are you going to tell him, though?"

"I can't, not … not until all this is over and he's not quite so radioactive … I don't know if I could even face him right now. Anyway, if I go see him and I'm found out, all it means is more questions and I can't do that again. And I don't want anything leaked out there. God, can you imagine the mess if it gets out that I was pregnant and Toby was the father?"

"And the President will have just another reason to kill him."

CJ chuckled. "Yeah." God this hurt. "See, it's things like this that makes men say women don't belong in politics."

"Shut up." He took her hand again. "And yeah, you made a mistake, CJ, but find someone who hasn't."

She sighed softly. "Yeah. Is it wrong to wish that this was all working out and that I hadn't lost my baby?"

_Dawn broke, cold and unpromising. Saturday morning greeted her with thick clouds and the feeling of rain in the air. She didn't know how she'd made it to bed, and suspected that Jack had something to do with it. He'd even tucked her in, and had the respect to only remove her shoes. She felt grungy and gross and crawled to the shower, hoping that scalding hot water would at least relieve some of the feelings. All it did was make her dizzy and she spent ten minutes on the floor of the bathroom afterward, trying to regain her sense of equilibrium. Only her cell phone ringing called her back to focus, and she picked her limp body off the floor and stumbled to the bedroom. "Yeah?"_

_"CJ?" Cliff's voice brought her mind back to focus. _

_"Yeah?" She managed to keep the moan out of her voice and even pulled herself onto the bed completely, preparing herself for the torture that would be getting dressed and heading to work. _

_The deputy chief of staff could hear in his boss' voice that if it wasn't life or death, he shouldn't have called. He'd seen how she looked yesterday, and from how she sounded, it wasn't any better today. "I shouldn't have bothered you."_

_"Well, you did, so what's up?" She even managed a small laugh at the end of it, but she was pushing. If he could solve this without her, she wanted him to. At least until noon. She'd be in by noon. _

_"I got a message last night from the minority leader ..."_

_"He's trying to bait you, Cliff. Don't take it and when he sends you another message, pass it along to me. We won't be talked down on the education package. It's too important and it's having marginal impact on the Santos Camp." She reached for her own file of notes about the bill and couldn't stifle the scream as she pulled tender muscles._

_"CJ?"_

_It took a moment for her to truly catch her breath again. "Just moved the wrong way. Why don't we put this off until I come in this afternoon?"_

_"Sure. CJ, are you sure you should be coming in?"_

_"Yeah, I'll see you at noon."_

"Why would it be?"

"I'm supposed to be this all powerful career woman."

Leo just shook his head, "No, CJ. You're a human being first. Don't loose that." Moving so that he could hold her close, Leo wrapped his arms tightly around her and held her, knowing that was what she needed more than anything else. Toby wasn't here to do this, and deserved to be rotting in hell for it, so the least he could do was try to be a bit of a substitute for the guy.

The top message on her pile confused her. "Margaret!" She called to the redhead, "I told you that I'm not answering any press calls right now!"

"Danny Concannon swore to me that it wasn't a press call. In fact, he reiterated it about ten times. 'Margaret,' he said, 'I promise you this isn't a press call. Just have her call me back.' So, it's not a press call."

"This is Danny Concannon, it's always a press call." She sighed and tossed the message aside, but didn't throw it out, for a reason she didn't quite understand. After taking a look at the second message, she handed the slip of paper back to Margaret, "Get me Kate. I want to take this call with her in the room. We'll deal with the rest of the messages when that call is over."

"Yes, Ma'am." Margaret nodded and headed back out to track down Commander Harper.

CJ took a sip of her coffee, sat down, and stared at the message from Danny.

**To Be Continued ...**

**Copyright March 2006**


	2. She Wanted to Say I Love You

Forks in the Road 

Shauna Kayleen Brock

A/N: This is the second chapter in "Forks in the Road" which follows "Dark History". You do not have to have read the events in "Dark History" to understand what goes on in this series, but it is advisable as there are a lot of references back to events in that series.

Disclaimer: This story is based on the events in "Internal Displacement". That being said, "Internal Displacement" was written by Bradley Whitford and there is no copyright infringement intended on his tele-play or the characters that are owned by WB, NBC, John Wells, and Aaron Sorkin. I make no money from any of the West Wing fic that I write and do not intend to do so.

Pairing: CJ/Danny (Hints at CJ/Toby)

Rating: All of my stories are rated Adult.

**Been a long time/Since I lay with you in bed/Conversations, full of words you never said. From Josh Kelley's "Almost Honest"**

Chapter Two: She Wanted to Say I Love You 

She wanted to tell him she loved him. It wasn't easy to watch Danny walk out the door. She always pretended it was, teased him about the kiss and stroked his beard before sending him on his way. He'd give her that half smile and she knew that he'd be back, because he knew that she felt just as strongly as he did. They couldn't be together, their jobs couldn't allow it, but that didn't stop her from feeling the way she did.

"Danny called again." Margaret handed over the pile of messages. "Do you want me to get him back?"

"No, I'll do it myself at some point. Is there any more word on the investigation? Anything new on the charges for Toby?" She wandered into her office, half dead from exhaustion.

"Not that I've heard, do you want me to check?"

"Yeah. Thanks." She barely noticed Margaret putting the cup of coffee down on her desk; her attention was too focused on the fact that since leaving her office only five hours ago, her schedule for the day had already changed. Knowing Margaret like she did, she knew that her doctor's appointment for this afternoon had already been pushed, the slot filled by the secretary to the assistant of the joint chiefs of … something else caught her eye. "Margaret!"

"Yeah?"

"What is this doing on my schedule?" She pointed at the paper in her hands. "I'm not meeting with reporters, any reporters, until this investigation is over with!"

"Except Danny."

"Except …" she glared at the woman. "Get NBC off my schedule!"

"You want to take it."

"Why?"

"It's not a meeting with a reporter, it's about –"

"No! We aren't putting new job possibilities on my desk until after the election. We've had this conversation."

"No we haven't."

"We … oh, we … I had it in my head. No job possibilities until after the election. Just screen and prep, okay."

"Okay."

Her coat finally made it off her shoulders. "Thanks, Margaret." With a click, the TV closest to her desk came on, tuned as she had left it last night, to Fox News. As the coffee burned her lips and the sugar coated her throat, she watched images of her soul mate as the media burned him in effigy. The conservatives loved it because it brought their ratings up and brought the Bartlet White House down. The liberals loved it because it brought the ratings up. A quick flip showed that C-SPAN hadn't begun their programming yet, so she muted the TV and left it there, letting the hearings she'd listened to the day before replay, the Senators miming through their motions. She made a few notes on her schedule, crossing out the three-thirty meeting and penciling in the time to finish that position paper she'd been avoiding. She made a note to Margaret to get back to her about her doctor's appointment, adding that she'd forgotten to schedule her mammogram. But it wasn't necessary, she knew Margaret knew. Margaret knew everything; it was the only way CJ made it through her day.

Half a grapefruit, a small glass of orange juice, and a quarter of a cinnamon raisin bagel with nothing on it appeared on her desk, taking the place of the schedule that Margaret was already taking to revise. Yes, Margaret knew everything, and the only reason CJ remembered to eat was that her assistant placed the food in front of her three times a day. Maybe, if Margaret got lucky, CJ would eat one of the meals.

Message after message about the investigation, the problems in China, and the refugee situation in Darfur all blurred together in her mind. Making the mistake to open a file that Margaret had yet to flag, CJ came face to face with the image of a mother holding a skeletal infant. The image, captured by some reporter who probably would never make it home, even though his pictures did, turned her stomach and she found her hand instantly going to her abdomen to protect a child who no longer dwelled there. She closed the folder and walked it out to Margaret's desk, piling it in the stack of files yet to flag, and her attention was again caught by images. These, file images from when Toby and Andi had left the hospital with the twins. The screen cut to shots of reporters trying to flag down the felon's ex-wife and CJ felt the tears welling up in her eyes. She didn't know if it was because of the look of agony on Andi's face or the fact that she herself missed Toby so much. "Can't they find something else to talk about? We're on the edge of war on the Russian subcontinent and all they want to pontificate about is Toby." She rolled her eyes, trying to cover the pain. She didn't fool Margaret. "I'm going to return Danny's call, then can you hold things for me until after staff?" Without waiting for an answer, she disappeared into her office, and closed the door.

For a long time, she stared at her cell phone, the personal one, the one she planned to use to call Danny. In truth, she could also call Toby, no one would know, she could call him and make sure he was okay. She missed him, but she knew she didn't love him. But she missed him, she missed her soul mate, the man who kept her clove cigarettes in the freezer for her, but she no longer loved him. She wanted to tell him that she'd find a way to make it be okay. She wanted to tell him that she'd lost the baby. She wanted to tell him that nothing he could do would ever make her hate him; she knew that he thought she hated him, she'd seen the look in his eyes that night. She wanted to tell him that no matter what, she would always love him, but that she wasn't in love with him anymore.

She wanted to say I love you. Not since Toby had any man been able to stir emotions like these in her. Just the look in Danny's eyes made her knees weak, and when his lips touched hers, she was completely hopeless. Arguing with him made her smile, teasing him always made her day. Late at night, when he was the only one left in the press area, he'd come to her office to watch basketball with her. Once, he made the mistake of trying to explain it to her, and she'd surprised him by correcting him on some of the finer points of man-to-man defense. She'd let Danny into the inner circle of those who knew the secret about her life back in high school. She was scared that she loved him. She wanted to tell him, she knew she never could. So she corrected him on sports statistics, held his hand, and kissed him passionately. They both knew it was hopeless; they spoke to each other through eye contact and touching. They knew each other's feelings. So they didn't say the words, but they wanted to.

Her hands shook and it took three tries to dial Danny's number. It was a new number; she wondered when he'd changed it, probably when he stopped working for the _Post_. He freelanced now. She hoped it wouldn't go to his voice mail; she didn't want him calling back on White House lines. But she got the slight switch in ring tone, and the sound of his gentle, goofy, midwestern voice filled her ear. Her stomach surged with emotion she'd refused to let herself feel in a long time. Her heart beat faster as she left a quick message and begged him to return the call on her private cell. She left the number. She left her new, private e-mail account – the idiots at the _Washington Times_ had discovered the last one. She told him to be in touch. She wanted to tell him she was sorry and that she still loved him. She hung up.

CJ reached for a file, one that Margaret had indeed flagged – notes for senior staff. The agenda had been reworked from the time she'd left last night. How did that happen? Changing her mind on not being disturbed, she hollered for Margaret.

The redhead came through the door, saw the agenda and shrugged. "Larry and Ed left a note on my desk." She made a move to escape out to the office again.

"Hey," CJ stopped her, trying to smile. Margaret knew now, about why she'd been late that Friday. Since that day, pictures of Margaret and Bruno's little boy had stopped making the rounds with the staff, and the only picture Margaret kept was a small one tucked near her computer monitor. CJ could only appreciate the effort. "How's that kid of yours? Do you ever see him? Do you have a new picture?" Margaret hesitated. "It's okay, Margaret. Really."

"I do. Hold on." Margaret reappeared with two new shots of her baby boy. "He's going to have my hair."

CJ found herself smiling. "What does Bruno have to say about that?" She eyed her assistant carefully. "Or is that a current sore subject?"

"No. I mean, we aren't together anymore, not at the moment, but he's a good father when he can be. I know he loves his son."

"He does." CJ blinked at the unexpected tears. "He does."

"Are you okay?" Margaret knew better, she knew CJ was hiding the pain, dealing with it alone. But she also knew CJ would end up being okay.

"I think so." She glanced at her cell phone, willing it to ring. "Let me know when the President gets down here. And tell Will I should see him before staff so that we can go over the Darfur language before he sees his gaggle. Call him, and if he's not in yet, tell him to go in the back door to avoid the press. I don't want him talking to a reporter about anything until he's talked to me first."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And, Margaret," CJ handed the picture back to the younger (but not much younger) woman, "you should get a frame for that one. It will look good on your desk." They exchanged small smiles, and Margaret went to call Will.

She wanted to say I love you as he walked her to her car. Once or twice his fingers touched the small of her back. Under the light of the street lamp, he pressed her back into the car door, his lips hot on hers, his hands remaining tame, but barely. The kiss dragged on, she heard a car pass them but for once didn't care. She wanted to break her lips free, to tell him how she felt, but logic overruled her heart. She pulled back, doing a terrible job of hiding the tears in her eyes and smoothed his shirt down and sent him on his way. She wanted to tell him. He knew.

"What's going on?"

CJ giggled, actually giggled, into his ear as he teased her across the digital airwaves. Danny shifted in his chair, staring blankly at his computer screen, as with all things CJ, everything faded into the background when she was even within reach over the phone. He missed her, he loved her.

"Is that a giggle coming from the White House Chief of Staff?"

"Not if that goes on the record. For the record, I don't giggle." CJ took a small bite of the almost-stale bagel. She missed him.

"You do. And I have clear memory of you doing it in a myriad of different situations." He grinned, knowing she was blushing. He loved the way the blush on her body darkened her already dusky nipples. He'd only seen it once, and the image was burned into his memory forever.

"What do you want?"

The tone hadn't changed either. This woman on the other end of the phone, she was still his CJ, just with a few more stress wrinkles and a lot fewer pounds. She was still the same woman he'd loved for eight years. "Dinner." He wanted more than that. Would she still have him? Was she still interested? But that tone, he knew that tone and even through the trials and tribulations of the other man in her life, she only used that tone with him. He knew the drill, he'd bring some story to discuss; he'd bring the piece of shit he was investigating about Doug Westin. He'd bring something that shouldn't matter.

"When and where?" Her tone slipped into something different, something familiar to both of them. They'd danced this dance so many times – but had only made it work once.

He gulped. He'd been prepared to argue with her. He'd been prepared for her to tell him to go to hell. "Ruby's? Tonight? Around nine?"

CJ glanced at her schedule, wanting to tell him yes, needing to make sure she wouldn't stand him up. "Ruby's at nine," she whispered. "I'll try to not be late." She took a sip of her coffee, and a bite on her bagel. "If I am …"

"I'll wait. It's a business dinner after all." The words did not meet with the tone in his voice, and he could tell by her silence that she knew this dance. "See you tonight, CJ." He hung up before he told her that he still loved her.

She wanted to say I love you. The kissed while she locked her door and linked hands as they made the way to her bedroom. She giggled as his hands fumbled with her bra. Their lips met, their bodies, flesh against flesh, passionate. Speaking in touches, in glances, they realized in this moment that each time they'd kissed, they'd made love. Each time they looked into each other's eyes, they made love. This here, this moment as he laid her back on the bed and she arched up against him as he entered her body, this was only their inevitable climax – the first of many. She wanted to tell him she'd heard about the job offer, but it would have to wait. It was why he was here tonight, why she'd finally let him past her walls. He would be an editor and she could be with him. He wanted to tell her about turning down the job offer, but it would have to wait. She cried his name as her body trembled around him; he whispered hers in his own release. He wanted to tell her he loved her. She knew. And later, in the after glow of the giggles and the kisses and the gentle touches that only two people in love could share, later as he drifted to sleep, she pressed her lips to his shoulder and trailed her fingers down his arm. "I love you," she whispered, hoping he was asleep, not knowing if he was. He heard. He bit his lip, keeping his tears from falling. She would never forgive him now. He should have taken the job.

She stared, angry at the clock for daring to tell her that she was late. Fifteen minutes became half an hour, half an hour, forty-five minutes, and finally the Chairman shut up. "Margaret!" She bellowed, realizing in that moment just how much she was sounding like Leo. "I'm going to try and salvage this part of my night, go home, see your son. I'll be back after dinner, which should only last an hour, if he's still there, and so anything you need me to finish, leave for me." Her coat, her scarf, the butterflies in her stomach, she had everything. Her assistant nodded and returned to her desk, CJ made a mental bet with herself on whether or not the redhead would still be here when she got back. If she was, she owed herself a manicure, if she wasn't, she owed herself a massage. Overall, it was a win-win situation.

There were advantages, she had to admit, to having the town car. A luxury she had grown to love, she could do work in the car even now, and was able to place three of the calls she'd needed to place before the Chairman decided to bend her ear over a problem she really didn't care that much about. It wasn't Qumar or Iran she was worried about tonight, it was Kazakhstan and China and Russia. The town car idled in front of Ruby's while she finished the third call; she raced out, knowing he'd be gone. Ten-fifteen. No one, not even Danny, waited that long.

He'd waited.

Their eyes met and they smiled and it was like nothing had changed, but everything had changed. The kiss was awkward, and she wanted to cry when he told her she looked beautiful. She didn't. And he knew something was wrong. He blamed Toby.

"I'm surprised you called." Her tone dropped slightly. "I vaguely remember shunning you." She wanted to apologize; she wanted to take everything back. She couldn't.

"Dignity's not my forte." He blushed and smiled at her, still talking, something inane about the kitchen. He couldn't remember what, he was too busy falling into those perfect blue eyes and the sadness that lay beneath. What had happened to her? It wasn't just the job. It wasn't just Toby. It was something else. So he kept talking, looking into her scared blue eyes and wondering how he could tell her that he still loved her.

She couldn't look up at him; she knew he could see past her walls, down into the pain she felt over letting him walk away. Maybe if she'd just set aside her fears, she wouldn't be here right now, snipping at innocent waitresses and making Danny squirm. She wanted to tell him she loved him. Was it really that hard? Why was she here? She heard herself ask him the question. She heard his joke about performance anxiety. She blew it off. She argued with him about reporters. She loved doing that. Somewhere, deep inside, something sparked; something she hadn't felt in years, not even when Toby was making love to her and she cried because she felt so safe and protected in his arms. Something sparked and tingled and it scared her. So she argued.

Danny could see her coming alive. "So don't get hypnotized by complexity. Make it count!" He paused, realizing he'd stepped over a line. Maybe he needed to tread lightly. "What are you working on?" She put him in his place.

"Right now? I'm trying to keep China and Russia from annihilating the Northern Hemisphere over oil in Kazakhstan. What are you working on?"

He blushed. She was right; she was doing her best in a world that only demanded the worst from people. There were times she didn't have the time to play anything but defense, not if she wanted to save lives. He wanted to touch her hand, he talked about Doug Westin. "I think he may be banging the nanny."

She talked over him, scared to really hear what he had to say. "I want a big slab of..." She stopped, she stared at him, she felt her heart sink and the familiar discomfort return. Suddenly this wasn't a date. Suddenly it was what reporters always wanted, to ask her for private information. Why couldn't he just love her? Why couldn't she just love him? "What?"

He repeated himself. He saw the old, well-guarded wall return around the depths in her eyes. The sadness disappeared, she was the Chief of Staff again, not his CJ. "I think the President's son-in-law may be banging the nanny."

"Is that a euphemism?" She wanted him to not be asking this question, to be telling her what he was telling her. She wanted him to just stop talking. But she'd asked a question.

"No. Well, "banging" is," he had to laugh. Maybe it would get her guard down. It failed. "I guess. It's just a rumor…" he kept talking. It was a bad idea. He saw her shut down, he saw her stand and not need to put her coat back on; she'd never taken it off. He watched her walk away and felt miserable for having ruined dinner. He'd slipped back behind the same wall she hid behind. Opposite ends of the playing field, the war games triggered and ready to go. He called out, asking when he could see her again. He'd meant to say I love you.

She knew.

She heard him ask, she wanted to turn around and tell him tomorrow night. She told him when they were out of office. She meant to say, I love you.

He knew.

_She wanted to say I love you. Their lips met again as she closed her office door. God, she'd missed him, but that didn't mean that this was right. "Danny …" she whispered, slowly ducking aside. He understood the tone in her voice and nodded. Rather than kissing her, he pinned the gold fish pin to her dress. She unlocked the door; he took a seat and started talking. _

"What's next, Margaret?" She'd had a million painful things to do today, and the look in the President's eyes had killed her. In her heart, it was easier to listen to him yell than watch him sink in on himself. Something told her that he'd suspected, but now to have the information and have it come from her rather than Liz … there were days she hated her job.

"You're done." Margaret grinned. She knew what CJ was up to tonight and she wanted to usher her boss out the door as quickly as possible. Maybe, just maybe, something good for CJ would come out of this. Then again, she knew that the other woman was incapable of keeping any kind of relationship going.

"You're kidding?" CJ reached for the files.

"No. You have a date. The rest of the world can wait until tomorrow. This is an earth-shattering event and I know you were late to your last one. Here's a hint, be nice to him this time."

"How do you …" she trailed off. Never mind. Margaret knew everything. She snatched the schedule folder out of Margaret's hands, scanned it, and then handed it back. "Okay. Page me if and only if something explodes." She knew that by saying that, something bad was destined to happen. Leave it to her to personally start war in Kazakhstan by saying what she'd just said. Margaret also looked at her with a raised eyebrow and shook her head, walking out of the office and muttering something about not saying certain words in this building.

CJ sighed, swallowed back her nervousness, grabbed her coat and purse and pager and headed out toward her waiting town car. Maybe tonight she could finally be honest. Maybe her fears wouldn't hold her back. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much to look into his sparkling blue eyes. Maybe she could tell him how she still felt. Maybe.

_She wanted to tell him the truth, that she missed him, that she still loved him. Instead, she taunted him with her perfume and her blouse and she stroked him behind the ears. She wanted him to tackle her with a kiss and shut the blinds and make love to her right there. She wanted to hear the words from his mouth, not just see the truth there in his eyes. So she hurt him and teased him and walked away and when she made it back to her office, she struggled to keep the tears at bay. She didn't know how to love him, and what was worse, he knew how to love her. _

She was pissed at something, and he could tell it was more than Doug Westin. For the millionth time, he wondered what Toby had done, exactly, to break her heart. It was more than his leaking the information … something Danny knew he hadn't done. At least, not on his own. "Men are like salmon - swimming upstream, hosing down the riverbed with their indiscriminate seed..."

He wanted to laugh, "Indiscriminate seed?" But he paused. She'd just given him a clue about Toby. She kept talking, answering his questions without realizing she was doing it. He heard the pain in her voice as she talked about bear paws and death and the truth clicked in his mind. He knew there was more than what he knew, but he was able to get the big picture. How could anyone hurt her? Did she know that he'd never been with anyone since meeting her? He wanted to tell her. "So you're struggling with trust issues."

Only he would ever be able to pick up the tears in her voice, "I'm struggling with reality."

The waitress coming back kept him from taking her hands. Personally, it was funny to see someone hate his CJ this much. So he laughed while she talked to the waitress and while the waitress stalked off. But then, she caught him by surprise.

"I'm sorry about the other night." She looked into his eyes and found herself falling and felt the walls come tumbling down.

He watched the color in her eyes change as again, she let him past the well-guarded walls around her heart. She'd forgiven him for the Doug Westin story. This was Claudia Jean again, not just CJ, Chief of Staff. This was the woman he'd been in love with since he'd first laid eyes on her back in Manchester, New Hampshire when she came into the room, all smiles and professionalism, and Toby Zeigler had instantly gravitated to her side.

Her voice changed and she looked down, daring to speak words she'd wanted to say all night. Maybe it was time to stop wanting. "I wanted to see you... and I haven't felt that in a long time and I just got all awkward and antagonistic."

He tried to laugh it away, but there wasn't any chance of really doing that. She'd finally said the words, he could say his own. With a single breath, he felt his own walls coming down. And he knew she could see it too.

The tone in her voice didn't change as she reminded him, futilely, that she didn't want to see him until after the inauguration, that she wanted to focus completely on her job. Behind the words, he knew that just a single push would put them together tonight – if she wanted. But he didn't want to push her. He wanted forever, he'd waited eight years; another few months wouldn't kill him. And suddenly her tone changed again, and his heart broke. He realized that maybe she didn't think she was getting anything done. Maybe she thought that the past eight years were a mistake.

"How dirty do my feet have to get without disappearing into the mud in order to get an inch of what I really want done?" She looked into his eyes again, and brick for brick, they matched each other as the walls tumbled under the weight of the dam of emotion breaking between them.

"It doesn't sound very heroic."

"It's not." She sighed. Bricks fell. She didn't need to tell him. He knew. Another brick, and then she stopped. Something else was coming, something that she didn't know if she was ready to hear.

"… I can't write that kind of crap anymore. I don't... I don't even know if I want to be a reporter anymore."

What was he telling her?

"I don't know. Can I ask you something?" It was a rare question, and he looked into her eyes, for the first time completely unable to read what she was thinking.

She watched him move the plates and felt her heart stop as he started to speak. "Uh, I'm flying a little blind here. I'm halfway through my life and I'm never quite sure if I'm doing anything right until I'm completely done doing it wrong." He kept talking, right over CJ's encouragements. He didn't feel heroic; he didn't want to feel heroic. She was the hero of the two of them. She was keeping war from breaking out over oil and he was investigating unfaithful husbands.

"Uh, we're both about to fall of a cliff and I don't know what I'm going to do with the rest of my life except I know what I don't want to do. And on Inauguration Day you're going to be released from that glorious prison on Pennsylvania Avenue with..."

"No human skills?" She blushed and looked down for a minute before just shaking her head and threatening him. He loved her even more in that moment.

"So, if I'm going to jump off the cliff and you're going to get pushed off the cliff, why don't we hold hands on the way down?" Blue eyes met blue eyes and the dams fell away, revealing oceans of emotion that neither of them could express, but for a single touch of their fingers. In that minute, he knew her answer.

She looked into his eyes; she wanted to tell him that she'd been holding his hand since the first moment she'd laid eyes on him back in campaign headquarters in New Hampshire. While Toby had wrapped his arm around her waist, she'd locked eyes with Danny. Was now the right time to tell him she loved him? She opened her mouth to talk, and her least favorite sound in the world shrilled through the air. Jumping clear out of her seat, she reached for her pager, knowing before she even checked the message that something had indeed blown up. Danny begged for just another minute of her time, but she couldn't. This was big, and she had to get back, already the worst-case scenarios about China were racing through her mind. "Oh, my God. I have to go." She looked at him, hoping her eyes could tell him what she couldn't say. And she didn't have time to look back as he shooed her away from the table and she ran out the door. She wanted to tell him she loved him.

"I'll see you later." He knew.

_To Be Continued… _

_Story Copyright, April 2006_


End file.
